Forbidden Touch
by ListenandComprehend
Summary: "Erik." He finally answered her question. Erik is the name of the devil who wants you desperately but cannot have you. TWO-SHOT.
1. Chapter 1

"Maestro?" The man playing the organ stopped to turn around and acknowledge that soft, sweet voice that called him. His eyes lazily bored into her hazel ones.

"What is it, Christine?"

She looked from left to right, opening her mouth, then closing it. He glanced at her lips, which were slowly parting, finding it hard to control himself from thinking impure thoughts about what he wanted to do with those soft, pink lips as she approached him. He shook his head, trying to clear away the thoughts but his efforts were futile.

Unsure of the right words to ask this question, she played with her hands, as he stared at her, finding it quite adorable that she's stuttering in front of him.

"I know we've known each other for so long…" she started, sitting beside him. He stiffened as he felt her bare arms slightly touch his sleeves. There was a barrier that didn't allow their skin to touch but he can feel the softness of her skin from his clothing. He didn't say anything, just waited for what is it that she wanted to ask. She hesitated at first, thinking that he'll never provide her with such information, but she was curious and it was just a simple question to answer, right?

"May I ask what your name is, Maestro?" She muttered quietly, as if it was a question that was forbidden to be asked.

"And why should I give out my name, child?"

She blushed and looked down, not missing the name he called her. Child? She was a woman! She raised her eyes to his emerald ones and quietly said,

"I am not a child, I am a woman."

Oh, he knew that. He very well did. He was with her since she was young and was brought to the Opera Populaire. He always sang to her, convincing her that he was an angel sent by her dead father, an angel of music. He had to lie, for he cannot bear to see this innocent child in tears, and he simply cannot show himself to her so soon. He was frightened that she will shun him just as the world did. He was barely a human. A monster, he likes to call himself. For half of his face is nothing but a curse and this curse is hidden beneath a white mask that was covering the right side of his face. He was nothing but a father figure to a child he just laid his eyes upon. Yet, she gave him a reason to still live. He never failed to guide her, to teach her everything he knew. She was just like his daughter and student but years and years passed, it turned into something else. He did notice the changes in her body, but the idea of him being attracted to his student is just_ wrong_. He didn't want to ruin their relationship if ever he fell in love with her. But little did he know, he already fell in love with her since he laid his eyes on her.

Since she turned into a woman, he just couldn't take his eyes off her. He had never seen such pure innocence and beauty in his whole life, he had to control himself every time he saw her, because all he wanted to do is grab her and roam his hands on her beautiful face, porcelain skin, and perfect, heavenly curves. He cursed himself for even thinking like this about his innocent student. How can she not know how inviting her beauty is? Her beauty is a sin and so is her golden voice.

Things got worse when one night, he couldn't take it anymore, and so he appeared in the mirror and sang to her, his alluring voice left her breathless, and that, he knew. He reached out his hand, it was shaking, because he was not sure if she would go with him and it's been so long since he came in contact physically with a human. But no, this is no ordinary mortal. This was _his angel_.

Her hand grasping his gloved hand made him gasp and he was consumed with such fire in his body. He had the urge to touch her right there and then, but he would not taint his student. He may be hideous, but not that hideous to even dare to take away her innocence. He led her gently to his lair, singing as he did. She was dazed by his presence and voice that the whole time he dragged her; she did not utter a single word. His voice casted a spell upon her and she was indeed happy to finally see her angel and trusted mentor, but a little betrayed that her so-called angel is the infamous Phantom of the Opera.

While he sang her a lullaby, he held her close, and he heard her quiet gasp as he lightly roamed his hands on the sides of her breast to her petite waist. But he quickly pulled away, realizing that he just touched his student without really intending to. She was just so…_ seducing._ He cussed and vowed to never do such a repulsive thing. It made him feel less of a man to give up to his raging hormones.

Since the day that he showed himself to her, he regretted it immediately. But there's no turning back now. He expected her to turn her back on him, but she did the opposite, she asked him if he would continue coaching her. She did tell him that she felt betrayed but he reasoned out his appearance. She just stared at him and told him that appearances do not matter in her eyes. Easy for her to say, she hasn't seen what kind of monstrosity is behind his mask. And he would never dare to make her look at it.

"I am aware of that, little girl." He assured her. The huskiness in his voice made her blush and shiver.

"If you already noticed it, then why give me such ludicrous names?" She replied in a small voice. She was always cautious about her reply. His temper frightened her but sometimes, she can't help fighting back.

"That is none of your business." Coldly, he returned to his work. He always ended conversations with that line. When he doesn't like where the conversation is going, he simply uses a cold tone and goes back to whatever he is doing. She doesn't like it. Never did.

"Why won't you tell me your name?" She asked, trying to persuade him to answer.

"Because an angel as beautiful as you does not have to speak a demon's name." He answered, not even looking at her but at his music. He held his breath, why had his lips always found a way to betray his brain? He was not supposed to say that out loud. It just slipped, he shook his head and put those thoughts away, what's done is done.

Christine, however, blushed a hundred shades of red at that comment. He always called her beautiful. People always acknowledged how much of an angel figure she is and she knows it. But somehow, the way he compliments her gives her feelings that were supposed to not be felt for her mentor. She glanced at him, and she knew at that moment, she had always loved him. He was always there for her, guiding her. She fell in love with him since the moment she heard his voice, his music. His voice made her soul soar and she heard as she'd never heard before. She observed the features of the man before her, the right side of his face is covered by a white mask, yet for Christine, that's what made him more…. attractive. She sighed at the sight of his sparkling green, emerald eyes that burned right through her. She examined his well-built body, broad shoulders, strong arms, and long fingers. He had once touched her lightly, and her body was aching for that touch once again. She felt blood rise up to her cheeks again as she realized how sinful her thoughts are. Her mentor would never _want_ to touch her. Did he?

"You are not a demon." She quietly commented. He looked at her, stopping with his work, yet again.

"Christine-"

"You're my angel."

He inhaled and closed his eyes as those words of her rang through his ears. Her voice intoxicated him and her words were just too much for him to handle.

"That's why I want to know the name of my angel." She added, hopefully, he would give this basic information.

He remained silent.

She sighed and sat closer to him, she felt him freeze.

"What can I do in exchange of your name?" She asked innocently. Not knowing, a series of wild thoughts were running through her mentor's head as she asked what she could do for him. He silently cursed himself, he didn't relax, how could he? When the woman in front of him is innocently asking him what he wants. He wanted her. And she didn't know how he ached so much for her. He clenched his fists.

"You don't know what you're asking for." He hissed through clenched teeth, controlling his urges to pin her down. She wondered why he was acting like that, is it too much to ask for his name? Why is he being so stiff while they're close together? Doesn't he enjoy her company? She asked herself, hurt by his reaction. Clearly, that would be the reason. She began to annoy him with her presence. And knowing that, it hurt too much to even think about it.

"I'm sorry." She clenched the skirt of her dress as she stopped the tears threatening to fall down her face. But the more she stopped it, the more it wants to fall. She was shaking, and then, tears fell.

He stared at his student, shocked that he made her cry unintentionally. Why was her reaction like that? Did he say something that hurt her? He reached out his hand to pull her into his arms but stopped. He did not want to touch her. She was an angel who is forbidden to be touched by a devil. And he, he was a devil himself.

"I'm sorry if I bother you with my presence." She said between sobs. She wanted him to embrace her, to tell her that what she was thinking were her own and was not in any way, the truth. She wanted him to touch her, to feel his warm body against her. She wanted his arms enveloping her fragile body. She wanted his lips on her. She wanted him.

Bother him? What was she talking about? He_ needed_ her. He _wants_ her beside him. He _lives_ for her. She was like oxygen that he can't even think that he could live without her presence!

His silence confirmed that her thoughts were true.

"Do you not want me?" She stared into his eyes, tears blurring her eyesight. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and he did not want to even look at them, it pained him. Her question was absurd. He wanted her so much. Yet he knows he could not have her.

"Am I not desirable for you, Maestro?" She added and that was the last straw. He got up, grabbed her wrist and dragged her. He reached the wall and pushed her roughly against it, his arms on the sides of her head, cornering her. He growled angrily, staring at her shocked, wet face. She trembled under his authority. She saw his eyes were burning with passion and lust. Did he want her? She searched his eyes, trying to find the answer. Did she, herself satisfied what he wants in a woman?

"M-Maes-"

"You are_ very_ desirable, you don't know how my body craves for you, Christine." He groaned.

He roughly brought his own lips to her, giving into his urges, he didn't care anymore, he wanted her, and_ now_. He wanted to explore her, every inch of her skin, every detail of her curves. Just thinking about her drove him mad. He pressed his body onto hers and she moaned into his mouth. That sound which came from her just made him more insane. His touches landed on her soft, perfect breasts. He rubbed them, enjoying the pleasure of touching such entireness. She gasped as a jolt of electricity rushed through her, she arched her roundness against his hands, begging for more. She snaked her arms around his neck and brought his face closer. She wanted more, she cried in pleasure as he brought his heated kisses on her neck, bringing his touches past her hips to her thighs and lightly squeezed them, teasing her, she felt herself getting wet. They can't get enough of each other's touch; both were lost in sinful fantasy and lust.

She felt his arousal grow and unconsciously caressed it, she heard him groan and pull away. They were both gasping for air.

Damn it! He cursed, he shouldn't have…He shouldn't have done that. He almost lost control. If he haven't stopped, then who knows what he might…. force her to do? Would he really steal away her innocence? No. And never will he make the same mistake to touch his student again. He turned his back on her and started to walk away.

"Maestro?" She called out, still breathless and flushed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." His voice stated blankly as if nothing had happened. He would hate himself for doing this to Christine. But… He felt that she wanted him. Did she? No, of course not. No one would want or love a monster like him. He stared at his hands and reminisced about the few minutes they touched each other fiercely, nothing he ever felt before. He remembered the way her curves felt under his long fingers.

"Erik." He finally answered her question.

Erik is the name of the devil who wants you desperately but cannot have you.

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**I just edited some parts. I hope I kind of made the almost-sexual scene better, if you read this again. But then, I do not have any experience in writing these kind of scenes, I do read rated M ones, but just enough to know how to put the imagination in the minds of the readers. Anyways, enjoy ! :)) TEAM PHANTOM! WHOOOOO! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! I just thought to put an additional chapter since majority of you have requested to continue it. But this is all I can go for, I cannot make it in a series since this was a snap of an idea. Actually, I almost gave up writing this chapter, because I had not planned for this story to be a two-shot. Longest chapter I wrote yet, I think. Bwhahah. I know, I suck at the kissing, sexual scenes. Actually, this is my first time on writing such so I was making myself blush while these imaginations are running through my mind and writing them down pathetically, not being able to find the right words. Oh well.. :D I kind of think this chapter sucks, I keep on blabbering here. BLAH BLAH BLAH. **_  
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**Some pronouns might be wrong, like her or his can be mixed up. Meh, I will check later, my eyes and hands are kinda tired right now. Nevertheless, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or any of the characters. Just the imagination ;)**

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_"You are very desirable, you don't know how my body craves for you, Christine." _

Those words just made her feel like a real woman. A woman that was wanted by a man, it made her feel pleased to hear his gruff tone with that statement. Yet, those words are falsehoods, and her thoughts about it were set and no one can change that.

Christine was lost in her own thoughts as she stared at her reflection on the mirror of her desk, sitting still as she didn't even recognize the face that was staring back helplessly at her. Dark shadows under her eyes were beginning to be visible; her once beautiful glow has now been drained out her, which only left paleness. Her eyes had not even held any emotions. It was dull and lifeless. Her bright smile now had been recently replaced by a troubled frown. Her eyes were irritated and tired, face puffy from crying. She did not even dare to light the candles; she wanted the never-ending darkness to engulf her forever. She didn't want to be consumed by the pain anymore.

It has been weeks since she didn't attend her voice lessons with him. She was so furious, so much that she wished she had the strength to tell him how she despised the fact that he left her wanting for more. Such intimate touches he gave her body made her deranged. His expertly long, soft fingers explored everything that he could reach; leaving her completely breathless with this sensation she was not supposed to be feeling. How can he just say that she was very desirable and his body ached for her when he just touched her for a moment and then left? It didn't make any sense. Did he just tell her that she was desirable just so she wouldn't be hurt? When he roamed his hands on her, was her body not good enough to be even felt? Did it even satisfy him? Did he realize that she was not the woman he wanted and need? Her painful tears ran down her pale, lifeless face as she imagined that night, his intense kisses, and his warm body on hers, his rough acts that made her cry in pleasure, and the way he groaned when she stroked him left them gasping for air. Did it even mean anything for her mentor? Or was she only a toy to play around with? Why did he pull away? Why was he holding back? She doesn't understand any of his thoughts at all.

His caresses still lingered on her body. She recollected that she was grasping her breath, not comprehending anything that just occurred. An infinity rush of emotions overwhelmed her. She called out his name, loving the feeling of his name come out on her lips. She anxiously craved him to touch her again, to make her longing for him justified. He unexpectedly threw things around, furious for no apparent reason and thundered at her to leave him alone. Frightened at such vehemence, she hastily ran and left, her heart shattered into nothingness.

People did observe the changes in her. Some were apprehensive that such a beauty as her is not taking care of herself very well. They might think she's foolish, but she did not give any care at all. She knows that if she keeps this up, there are a lot of risks that she'll lose her own sanity because of one man she wholeheartedly loved and wanted. But she assumed he did not even want her. What he said that night were all lies. She indignantly looked away from her reflection, she was tired, restless night always haunted her, those fervent moments with him was all she dreamt every night. He was all she can think about. He made her do this to herself. If he hasn't done that, maybe everything would be still normal.

Down below the Opera House, violent, incensed notes floated into the air. Two hands were coarsely dancing its way on the organ; the man playing desperately needs release from his anger and frustration. Yet, hearing these unpleasant and disgraceful noises were not doing any good for his stability. It made matters worse. He started pounding on the keys and stopped.

"Damn this!" He cussed. He heatedly stalked away from his beloved organ. He tried so hard to compose something, anything, just to get his attention out of that night! His fingers were always trembling, wanting to feel her body once again. He desired the sensation of her soft skin against his fingertips. He sought to hear her arousing moans, her hands curiously stroking him. And he wanted to see her face in ecstasy, it gave him superiority that somehow, his touches made her react that way. Yet, shame had not left his mind. She had not even gave him permission to lay a single finger on her yet, he roughly forced his self against her, anger was protruding in him as he heard her doubting that he had not wanted her. That was the moment he lost control. He did not want her to think that she was not attractive in his eyes. Somehow he had lamented telling her how he craves to ravish her. It was possible his statement frightened such an innocent one as her. His corrupt thoughts about desiring her would only make her think that he's a vile monster. He laughed bitterly. He _is_a monster.

He evoked the sudden violent outburst he made after he sinfully kissed his novice. Her frightened weeps made him more ferocious, he was out of jurisdiction; so much emotion was taking over his own saneness. He heard her flee when he furiously demanded that she should leave at once. Of course, he meant the complete opposite of what he said but he didn't want anything worse happening. He might unintentionally hurt her and he would not forgive himself for it. But he knew he had hurt her emotionally if not for physically.

Touching his lips, he still felt her soft, luscious lips on his deformed one. It was his first kiss. Such sweet, sweet act that was so overwhelming must be illicit. Her sweet scent that infiltrated his nose was so addicting. She was supposed to be off-limits but how can that even be when everyday, her body was taunting him and his cravings were deceiving his concentration?

It had been weeks since that night, he thought. She didn't attend their lessons recently. Somehow, it made him feel relaxed that she wasn't going to face him yet; he wouldn't know what to do. It was killing him to be apart from her at such long time even though he knows she's just up there but he can't bring himself to approach her yet, he was not ready. He was afraid of what he could see in her eyes. He wondered what she must have been thinking of right now. Was she having the same thoughts as him?

She touched her pale lips. It was her first kiss. She traced her lips lightly, remembering his distorted lips roughly crushing against hers. It made her feel her body burn with hunger she had never known until that night. For her, his lips were perfectly imperfect. It was somewhat supposed to feel wrong yet it feels so right. How can that be? And she was ecstatic and relieved that Erik took away the virginity of her lips. She knows herself that even if he didn't ask for authorization to kiss her, she would willingly give herself to him. Was it his first too? She looked at the floor, of course not. With his voice, he could get any woman he wants, with his money, he could've paid someone to bed with him. No, the thought of it was too much to bear. Too many doubts were running through her head, unable to comprehend exactly why would she even think that he would have sex with another. . Woman.

She stood up. She needed to confirm these unfamiliar feelings. She had to know if what happened that night were indications that he wanted her. In a matter of minutes, she can feel herself slowly slipping away from sanity just thinking about what were running through his mind. She did not want to wonder for eternity on how he felt about her. She came near her gigantic mirror, somehow feeling conscious that he always watched her through this see-through glass from the other side. It made her uneasy that maybe while she changed clothes... He can perceive all of her.

Taking a deep breath, she slid the mirror to the right, gasping and stumbling backwards.

"E-Erik!" She breathed, clutching her chest, utterly surprised that he was standing there.

Finally, he once again heard his name come out of her fragile, little lips as he inhaled deeply, taking pleasure in hearing her soft, sweet, innocent voice. He did not utter a single word or phrase, his gaze burned intently at her, wandering his eyes over her perfect, angelic face down to her petite body. She trembled slightly at his exploring eyes, unable to determine what he is thinking of right now. She feels like she was being undressed without even him touching her. He noticed how horrible she looked, red, puffy eyes met with his emerald orbs. Her tightly curled auburn hair was in a mess, framing her face in the wrong places. She was sniffing and quivering while he gazed at her, she looked more fragile than he had ever seen her before. Silence started lingering in the air; only their heartbeats were heard and their unsteady breathing.

"Touch me."

He froze, unable to process what she had just said. Did he heard right? She told him to _touch_ her? Feel her?

"Erik, touch me." She repeated. He held his breath; her words were beginning to arouse him.

"Christine…you don't want this." He growled lowly.

"Prove to me that I am desirable, Erik." She stepped forward; her voice unwavering and will not back down at any cause. He shut his eyes. He knew words cannot always prove anything, actions would have to do but he cannot do what she is asking of him. He wanted to. He needed her.

"No, Christine, stop it." He clenched his fists, trying everything that it takes to control himself and to not give in to her preposterous requests. He won't make the same mistake again.

"Erik…"

"I would not grant any nonsensical requests you're asking of me now, child." He pressed, clearly restraining himself from giving in to her commands.

She stepped forward; grasping his hands gently, and rested it on her round, soft breasts. His eyes widened at her sudden bold movement. He tried to pull away, but she kept her hands above his. She started to guide his hands down on her stomach, her flawless curves. His knees were going weak, and his body was raging with his damned hormones, unable to grasp the situation right now. His breath accelerated, his uncertain, trembling hands against her body were too much for him to even handle. He closed his eyes, feeling the sensation of her perfection under his immoral hands. She lowered their hands, past her stomach to her maidenhood; he can feel her trembling hands against his. They were both afraid of this yet they wanted this too much.

Before he can even touch her there, he roughly pulled his hands away from her, panting. She looked at him, rejection and hurt was visibly clear in her eyes, tears were forming on the corner of her eyes.

"Why? Don't you want me, Maestro? Am I not suitable enough for your needs?"

Silence.

"We will not start this discussion again, Christine. I do not want to linger in this topic any longer." Stubbornly, he turned away, walking towards the mirror to escape from this torture.

"I love you!" She exclaimed, stopping him in his tracks.

_What _did she say?

She ran and hugged his back, painful tears soaking his cape, as she buried her face on his solid back, her hands grasping the clothing over his chest. She was weeping uncontrollably; hiccups and sniffing were all that were heard of in that room. He stood there, motionless. _Loved _him? She loved him? No, that's quite impossible, an angel…an angel such as her couldn't possibly… No, he can't accept this. He loved her too, _so much._ But… he was twice of her age, for Christ's sake! He couldn't possibly bear the thought of him being together with an innocent angel. It would be hell for her. He cannot give her the happiness of the outside world. He cannot give anything to her but his pathetic love and passion for music. He looked down at the tiny, porcelain, trembling hands that were clutching his clothes as if her life depends on it. He shook his head; a single tear fell from his masked cheek, as it dropped on Christine's hands. Of course, she did not miss the wet liquid that touched her delicate hands.

"Maestro…"

He did something out of the impossible. He did not want this to go on anymore further or he would have gone mad. He would have to show her his weakness. This curse is the reason why he cannot grant her wishes. It was wrong, very wrong for him to take pleasure in touching an angel. With trembling hands, he slowly reached for his mask, revealing his hideousness, his sin, his repulsive, scarred face.

"This is a face of a demon, Christine!" Turning around, he grasped her wrists tightly, shouting at her furiously, wanting to scare her. This was the only way.

"Be disgusted! Are you repulsed now?" He spat bitterly.

"I believe that an angel such as you would not want to be touched by such monstrosity."

Her eyes traced his disfigurement, somehow surprised that it did not even make her flinch, her eyes softened at the scenery before her. He did not receive compassion because of this imperfection of his; her heart clenched when angry and agonizing tears ran down her teacher's cheeks as she wandered her eyes over his monstrosity. He thinks that no one could ever love him; he thinks that he does not deserve her beautiful face and soul.

_'Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known?' _Her thoughts wondered, imagining all the hurt he must have been through.

He _is _beautiful. His soul, his music, his voice, everything about him is beautiful. She cared less about his appearances. This man before her was the one who guided her when she was at loss of her father. He was the one who introduced music to her, to make her voice take wing. This was the man who taught her to love, to sing and to learn new things she had never known before. This was the man who could lose his temper, but never dared to hurt her in any way. He can be gentle and rough at the same time, and she loved his ways. This man standing before her is the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.

Hesitantly, she started to reach her hand out, searching his eyes for permission to touch his scarred face. Fear was evident in his eyes, so much longing was there, such adoring eyes he had. He was scared that she would turn her back on him, but he knew the risks. He wanted her to flee from this cursed face, not ever looking back. Because he cannot accept the fact that she loved him. It was too good to be true. He cannot protect her, he is sure of that. Society would start being harsh on her too for loving a monster like him. He cannot put her life at risk; let his be taken away but not his angel's. He wanted Christine to have a normal life. A loving, handsome man that would take great care of her, a normal child without any deformities, and a wonderful life out and about where he cannot possibly expose himself into. He let go of her wrists, looking away.

He winced when her fingertips slightly brushed with his twisted face; he just stood there, staring at her in confusion. Why was she not frightened of such image bestowed upon her? He must admit the curiosity found in her face is so amusing. She was just so…_innocent._ So _pure_. Maybe that is why he fell for her, since he wasn't even considered innocent at anything at all, she was his complete opposite. She, the light and he is the darkness. Without her, there would be no existence of him in this cruel world. Without her care, love and adoring side, he would be of nothing but complete darkness. She showed him that the world was not cruel at all times, she gave light in him through her beautiful smiles. She calls him her angel. Truly, she was the angel here. Such kindness in her that no one had dared to show him was unbelievable.

She clumsily tiptoed, trying to reach his lips but she stopped short because he was a lot taller than she was. She grabbed his collar, making Erik lean down and she caught his lips, stumbling backwards as his weight fell on her and the bed catching their fall. She brought her hands behind his head, drawing his face nearer, wanting to savor every bit of his lips. Erik supported his weight by putting his hands on the mattress, afraid that he might crush her any second.

"Touch me." She whispered in his mouth as he groaned, pulling away. She sat up, gazing at his troubled face; he was unsure of what he wanted to do anymore. His head was spinning; clearly he was supposed to stop, _right now_. Yet, this pleasure he was feeling stopped him from doing so. He can't separate himself from her anymore. They both needed this, he growled and roughly pushed her down the bed, pushing his pulsating tongue into her sweet mouth, and was rewarded by a moan as their tongues danced gracefully. He brought his heated kisses on her neck, murmuring on how beautiful she was. She arched her body, enjoying the feel of his unusual lips on her skin. He stopped.

"I love you." He finally said, returning her feelings.

Her lips curved into a smile,

"I love you more, Erik."

"I love how you say my name, perhaps, later, you'll be screaming and moaning my name instead of just saying it." She blushed at his bold statement, and started to moan again as he brought his heated touches on her breasts and his lips roughly grinding against hers.

Such pleasure that was forbidden.

And so their sin began.

_Fin._

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